


Mutual Assistance Required

by mockingtheodds



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, F/M, Horrorterrors - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockingtheodds/pseuds/mockingtheodds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's grateful that he seems to be trying to help her, and even if he's not successful, she figures it's only fair that she attempt to return the favour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual Assistance Required

The first thing he notices is that he cannot see.

He is not blind. Not yet. But the sudden explosion of violent colours and lights make him want to claw his own eyes out and fulfill that particular prophecy himself. But he doesn’t. He knows that this is a dream. It’s his own fault, he figures, for ignoring Karkat and falling asleep. He tries to think back to how it happened, but images of Aradia hugging him and Eridan’s computer exploding, and all of his friends running around the Veil blur together in his mind, and in the end he assumes he must have fallen asleep at his computer doing something inane.

Wonderful. Unless he had managed to fall into a randomly appearifying vat of sopor as he lost consciousness, Sollux figures he is most likely in for one hell of a nightmare.

He attempts to get his bearings, but the gaudy white cliffs are reflecting painful beams of sunlight right at his retinas. After a few seconds of hard blinking, he banishes the last of the spots from his vision, and allows himself a look around the unfamiliar dreamscape.

The second thing he notices is the girl.

She’s human. He can tell that much right away. She is the one Kanaya has been speaking with. Apparently skilled in the human art of sarcasm and highly talented in battles of horseshittery. She is standing on another island; Sollux can hardly see her among the glaring white chalk cliffs and bright, reflective water surrounding them. But she is standing close enough for him to see the look of pure, unadulterated panic on her face.

She is staring right at him. Rose knows he is there, and knows he can see her. She does not know who he is, but shakes her head nonetheless, silently urging him to leave. Get out. You still have time.

I don’t.

But he stays, just as rooted in place as she is. Rose cannot move towards him, nor can she move away. She has lost that ability. Both of them look up as the over lit sky begins to sizzle and pop with electricity. The air seems to hum with expectation, and Rose does not know what will happen to the boy if he stays. Technically neither of them are real. This is all a painfully realistic manifestation of her own mind. She briefly wonders if he knows that.

For a moment her mind flickers to her mother. To the news she received before she finally lost control of the monstrosities whose power she had been wielding so carefully for so long. Before they had forced her here. But those thoughts do her no good. So she tosses them aside, and keeps her gaze locked on her unexpected visitor.

The sizzling has turned to a crackle that is slowly growing louder as the sky darkens, thick black tendrils spreading quickly over its surface as it bathes the land in darkness. Sollux no longer needs to squint. As ominous as this darkness seems, he is grateful for the shade it provides. Rose has not moved since turning towards him, her face a combination of terror and despondency. He looks around, noticing two intertwined tentacles protruding from the steadily growing mass above her. They are spiraling towards her. Slowly. As if they have all the time in the world. Rose knows that they are approaching, and despite her abilities she is not certain of what will happen when they reach her. But she is not looking forward to it.

Perhaps if she could speak to him, she could warn him. The air feels thick, humid, and heavy. But she opens her mouth, and coughs as a bubbling, tar-like substance dribbles from her bottom lip, smearing her lipstick. Seemingly, she has lost the ability of free speech as well.

Sollux removes his glasses, clenching them in one fist and ignoring the fact that Rose is still very obviously staring at him. Instinctively, he fires an optic blast at the tendrils, a sharp arc of ice and fire that stings the black, thorned vines. They sneak back into the mass, only to make room for two more pairs that begin their descent.

His pan throbs dully as he works. He is weak. Pale. Shaking. And as far as nightmares go, Sollux figures this is pretty screwed up. But he feels a strong sense of accomplishment as he blasts the tentacles that seem incredibly determined to envelope their host. Rose watches, still unable to move or speak. But something inside of her feels warm. As if there is a small glimmer of hope. She cringes involuntarily at her own weakness and inability, but mentally cheers on her guest as he works, hoping that her frail, spiritual cheerleader routine is helping in some way.

Despite both of their efforts, the sky continues to darken as her imprisoners attack her from every conceivable angle. But Sollux is quick. His blasts of red and blue cast the entire land in a deep violet light, and despite everything that is taking place, Rose can’t help but think it looks beautiful.

She has very little awareness as to what is taking place outside of her mind. Regardless of what it is, she has enough experience with these beings to know that in all likelihood, it will be reckless, destructive, violent, and irreversible. She thinks of her thorns planted deep in her sylladex, and wonders if she would even be able to access them. If they are even functional anymore. But her mind is pulled from those thoughts as one of the tendrils finally reaches her small island. It snakes through the short, coarse grass, and Rose is just about to close her eyes and accept whatever her fate may be as a small, strangled cry escapes her mouth, met with another onslaught of thick, black tar she is unable to wipe away.

Sollux hears her, and freezes as he sees the bright pool of red spreading across her torso. A crimson slit has appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and the blood streaming from the wound is already staining the pink scarf she has tied around her waist. She looks down, then back up, her expression that of one who requires assistance to an unsolvable problem. Sollux keeps his eyes on her as the air fills with the stench of death and ozone, the shrill and distant howls of the horrorterrors crying out at the death of their host. They swarm her as the ground begins to tremble and quake, no longer the slow and meandering spirits Sollux had been fighting earlier. They move with purpose. The land is breaking apart, splitting at invisible seams. Destroying itself.

The beings finally envelope her. They twist themselves around her arms, legs, and torso, cradling her in a surreal and disgusting gesture of near-maternal concern. He knows he should be moving. He knows he should be attacking them. But his eyes are locked on the blood. The blood that is already turning maroon as it soaks her dress. He feels a sharp pain in his chest at the sight of it, a hard, dry kind of pain that only intensifies as Sollux sees these monsters trying desperately to heal and protect one who is so clearly already dead.

—-

Everything is quiet.

It’s quiet and soft and dark and everything seems blurred, as if there is something greater just outside of reach that cannot be grasped or imagined.

Rose is sitting in the middle of this soft silence, across from a young troll boy who has just attempted to save her from something painfully unavoidable. He takes a look at her, an instant moment of recognition causing him to jump up from his spot across from her. He takes a few steps back, not quite trusting himself to fall into the pitch darkness that seems to be hovering around the pair of them. A soft grey light emanates from nowhere in particular, casting odd shadows around them. Sollux cringles, rubbing his temples as he attempts to make sense of what he is sure is another nightmare waiting to happen.

If his mind is ready for round two, then bring it on.

“You just died!” He blurts it out, not caring much for polite consideration. He is still attempting to bridge the gap between virtual and reality; fiction and non-fiction. Rose tilts her head curiously, thinking over the phrase thoroughly before responding.

“No I didn’t. Or at least, not that I’m aware of.” She holds her hands out in front of her, lilac pajamas rustling as she does so. “I seem very much alive.” He is genuinely confused by her placidity.

“You don’t remember? The giant fucking tentacle beasts trying to eat you alive? None of that?” Her eyes widen, but her expression remains pensive. “So you do remember.”

She shakes her head.

“No. But I can infer.” Her hand motions for him to return to his spot on the floor. Something about the air had changed when he moved, and it makes the both of them uneasy. He sits back down, the static around them discharging and eventually ceasing once he makes his way back to his original spot. “Though I’m not sure why you… whoever you are, would have been there for the show.” As she speaks, a strange noise reverberates through the seemingly endless space, an unusual combination of despondent moaning and pointed blame. Rose can hear whispers beyond the darkness, and for a moment she has the urge to rise from her seat on the ground and explore, to search out the root of the murmurs whose meaning lies just beyond her reach. She has the feeling that there is something beyond this darkness, something not entirely tangible but very much _there_. If she squints, she can almost make out shapes, but their surroundings are too dim for any kind of real distinction. Everything is vague and unsolvable, and laced with an elusive familiarity that sets her teeth on edge. Sollux grunts, pressing a hand to his temple and closing his eyes in concentration. Rose doesn’t mind waiting patiently, and after several uncomfortable seconds he finally leans back, exhaling sharply.

“Yeah, well, that makes both of us.” His arm makes a wide, sweeping arc, showcasing the darkness. “And if it wasn’t for these fucking things, I would have kept on thinking this was some kind of shitty dreamscape.”

“How can you be certain it’s not?” When he laughs in response, it’s a quick, short laugh full of bitterness and a sarcasm that Rose didn’t know trolls were capable of.

“Well the fact that you just told me seems to be a bit of a dead giveaway- no pun intended,” he adds, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. The whispers steadily grow in volume, and Rose realizes that she can still no longer make out individual words or phrases as more and more voices are added to the inaudible maelstrom around her.

Sollux quickly steals a glance at Rose, and is thankful for the slight look of confusion on her face. He’s glad she doesn’t have to hear this.

_“You tried, at least. Be grateful you were able to muster up the courage for that much.”_ He head jerks back to Rose, but her expression hasn’t changed. Of course it isn’t really her. It’s _them_.

Now her face is laced with mild concern. He opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted as the same, now-familiar voice cuts him off.

_“If you really think about it, I’m genuinely surprised that you didn’t simply curl into a ball, or walk away.”_

“Fuck _off_!”

_“You could have easily made some kind of excuse about not helping humans, et cetera, et cetera. You’re very good at making excuses, you know…”_

He groans again, tearing at his hair as if it would ever make a difference.

_“…Placing blame on others when it was clearly-”_

Rose has not moved, still seated calmly across from him with a mixture of uneasiness and curiosity on her face. She makes no move to approach him. But she does not move away, either. When a slight sheen of sweat appears on Sollux’s brow, she finally decides to speak. Her voice seems to fall flat, nowhere near matching the cacophony that is still omnipresent around them.

“What are they saying to you?” She has already inferred that whatever message these beings carry is not meant for her. But if it is having such an effect on someone, she can’t help but be curious.

For the first few moments Rose isn’t sure if he is ignoring her, or if the voices have drowned her out entirely, but his ears perk up at the sound of her voice- her real voice- and he throws her a look full of confusion and pained hopefulness.

_“I wonder who you blamed for my death. Was it the horrorterrors? Some inexplicable force beyond your control? Please.”_ The last line is so laced with mocking and scorn that Sollux is tempted to lash out, though at what he isn’t sure. But a voice permeates the gruesome denunciation, the same one that has been plaguing him, but lighter, softer, and duller among the other voices. Against his better judgement, he decides to respond.

“Was that you?” He asks, and Rose tilts her head at him in response. “No,” he growls, “I mean _really_ you.” Rose hadn’t even contemplated the possibility of the voices impersonating anyone, but she figures that if their goal is to intimidate or taunt, it would be one of the more effective methods of doing so. She nods. Hopefully that will provide him with some kind of reassurance. He cracks open an eye long enough to see her nod, and sighs.

“They’re blaming me. It’s always someone I know. Someone who’s going to die. Even though you’re clearly already fucking dead. I guess they don’t really give much of a shit when it comes to chronology. They know it’s because I couldn’t save you. Not that I didn’t try, but-” He gestures to her new change of wardrobe. “Clearly that didn’t go so well.”

Rose is torn between letting him continue his rambling, or to interject. In the end, the strain he seems to be feeling forces her into choosing the latter.

“My death wasn’t your fault.” The voices, though she still cannot understand them, audibly howl in protest, but Sollux’s eyes open wide.

“Say that again.”

“Say what again?”

“More of that ‘it’s not my fault’ bullshit.” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“It isn’t bullshit. The last thing I remember was thinking about killing Jack. If I died, it was a result of my own recklessness.” Another round of shrieking, this one loud enough to make Rose cover her ears. Sollux, meanwhile, actually cracks a smile, his eyes challenging the darkness that seemed to be ever-so-slightly receding. He turns back to Rose, his expression changing to one of disbelief.

“You can’t actually believe that. I fucking saw it. I saw it get you after I couldn’t keep it back anymore.” Sollux’s pan flashes momentarily to the wound that appeared before Rose’s death, but someone- he is not sure whether it is him, or his voices- pushes it back.

“Can’t you see what is happening here? These things are feeding off of you. They’re living off of your own poor self-worth. Besides,” she pauses for a moment, and Sollux catches the first real flash of emotion pass through her face since their first meeting. “I know what it is like to have a monster meddling in your mind where it doesn’t belong.”

Sollux’s chest contracts again, the same dry pain aching through him as when he saw the blood staining her dress. She has him pegged, and she doesn’t know a damn thing about him, and for some reason this makes him angry and sad and unexpectedly excited all at the same time. Her face shows a momentary mixture of pain and doubt, and despite the murmur of voices still attempting to pervade his pan, he has an urge to do something rarely compassionate, like pat her on the shoulder. Instinctively, he moves forward somewhat, but the air sparks in protest, so he stops himself.

“So you’re saying I can’t blame myself for anything?”

“Of course not. You are welcome to blame yourself when blame is due. But this-” she motions to the darkness that is far less saturated than before, “Is only hurting you.”

“I deser-”

“No you don’t!” Her voice rises slightly more loudly than she expected, but it has the desired effect.

An ear-splitting shriek pierces the air, and this time both of them retreat from their positions, moving closer together despite the fact that their surroundings have opened up. A grey, tiled expanse now sits before them as far as either of them can see. Rose turns to Sollux, her hand reaching for his as her vision goes white, the grey of their endless room replaced by the bright, violet backdrop of Derse.

—-

Rose floats towards the meteor with her brother, her mind and her world finally her own again.

Fresh.

Clear.

Free of interference.

As she approaches, she sees the silhouette of the troll boy she met in limbo. He looks almost the same, minus the fangs and the strange glasses, but without the look of anguished repression on his face, he looks younger. More handsome. Rose allows herself a rare smile as she lands, feet gently cushioning her descent.

She hopes that his mind is finally his own as well.


End file.
